


Do Over

by Janet_Coleman_Sides



Category: Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman | Science Ninja Team Gatchaman
Genre: Alcohol, Drugged Sex, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janet_Coleman_Sides/pseuds/Janet_Coleman_Sides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ken and Joe clearly had a wild night, but who did what to whom? One can't remember and the other's not telling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Over

_When they awoke, the first thing they noticed was that they were both naked._

The second thing was the room.

It was ghastly. A lurid lampshade and the green carpet on the ceiling informed them that this was the "Elvis Jungle Room". However, it had clearly been decorated by someone who not only had never seen the real (and rather dull) Jungle Room in Graceland, but did not even know who or what exactly this Elvis was. The rest of the room was more or less "Jungle". And "Tacky".

A light was gently flashing over the door. It said, CHECK OUT.

Both of them were sitting up groggily on a large round bed, hunched over in the way that means 'headache'. Ken looked at Joe. Joe looked sick.

Very sick. Was that green his _skin_ or a reflection of the carpet overhead?

Perhaps a bit of both. The next thing Ken saw was Joe's bare butt as he bolted for the bathroom. Unpleasant noises ensued from behind the partially open door. Ken took deep breaths and tried not to listen or think about what Joe was doing or how it affected his own uncertain stomach.

_What is this place?_

Looking around dazedly he saw Joe's car keys on the bedside table, thrown there carelessly. Beside it was another key on a large pink plastic tag.

HAPPY LUCKY LOVE HOTEL.

Ken gasped quietly. No way! The slight motion of his head made it throb dazzlingly for a moment. But that must explain the decor. Ken had never been in one of these places before.

_I don't_ ** _remember_** _\-- !_

No, he didn't remember how they got here. But they seemed to have arrived under their own power. Joe's keys. Their clothes, lying strewn about the floor at the foot of the bed. Empty beer cans on top of the minibar.

Ken put a hand to his head as though that would dislodge the answers. _But what are we doing_ ** _here_** _?_

_It must have been... A party? With... girls?_ Joe had been threatening Ken for years to "get him laid". There must have been... some girls... well, one at least... but she or they had already gone.

_Did I really...?_

He could remember nothing. No blurred details. And he felt... Well, he felt hung over. He wished Joe would hurry up in the bathroom.

***

Joe finished gasping over the toilet, then fumbled for the gold-tone flush lever. Fucking ridiculous love hotels. You couldn't just get a _room_... you had to get all this dippy shit... and the race car room had already been taken.

He felt terrible. God, he must've drank a river last night; he just tossed up a minor tributary. He went to the sink to wash up. The enormous round mirror told him, _Joe, you don't look so good._

There were brand new plastic-wrapped toothbrushes and toothpaste on the vanity. Well -- score one for the stupid love hotel. Joe took the blue one marked "HIS".

_He's gonna kill me,_ flicked through Joe's mind. He looked guiltily at the mirror. It had not changed his opinion of him just for brushing his teeth. _Maybe I should just make like Elvis and drop dead in here, 'cause Ken is gonna break my fucking neck for last night._

***

After a near eternity Joe finally emerged from the bathroom, looking like doom and gloom, but a little less green at least. Ken looked up from where he sat on the edge of the big round bed.

"Are you OK...?" It seemed a reasonable enough question to Ken, given the noises, but Joe met it with a Glare that hurt. Literally. Ken winced and rubbed his eyes, getting up to take his turn in the bathroom. Deep breathing had relieved much of his nausea, but his mouth tasted awful and his bladder felt about to burst. There were a _lot_ of beer cans on that minibar.

It felt a little weird to be naked like this in a hotel room with Joe, but given the circumstances... Anyway he'd be glad to get dressed in a minute. First... _ahhh._ Second, washing his hands and third -- _Damn_ Joe! Leaving Ken the _pink_ toothbrush!! Annoyed and defiant for once of strict hygiene, Ken pointedly left the HERS toothbrush there in its wrapper, using the blue one, still damp from Joe's mouth (and a quick splash of water). He made a point of brushing thoroughly, too.

Ken wondered why the girl, whoever she was, had not stayed to use that pink toothbrush. Then his stomach did a flip: _Maybe because she was -- paid by the hour?_

Ken stared at the mirror in horrified disbelief, his face red. Is _that_ what had happened last night? Did he lose his virginity with some _hooker?_

_What other kind of girl would possibly want to come to a place like this?_ thought Ken, who knew very little indeed about women. Given the near-total absence of data (and the sleaziness of the surroundings) his mind flung sordid scenarios at him. Oh gods -- had they... they couldn't have... _shared_ her??

_Some nameless..._ ** _anonymous_** _..._

_Joe, how_ ** _could_** _you!?_

***

Joe muttered unintelligibly as he pulled on his clothes. He winced often, since no one was in the room just then to see it.

He asked Joe if he was _OK_? Of course he wasn't OK! He was hung over from hell to breakfast -- ( _nonono don't think about breakfast_ ). He definitely needed _hours_ more sleep that he wasn't gonna get, because the CHECK OUT light was still flashing (somewhat less gently now). _And_ , his ass hurt!

He kind of hadn't thought about that. Scrawled on his report card, _Joe doesn't think ahead a lot._

_It didn't hurt last night. Well -- not much._

Now in the sickly light of day in the Jungle Room, Joe's every move presented him with a constant reminder, a sweet lingering ache.

He looked up at the bathroom door. Ken hadn't killed him yet, but he probably would once he emerged. _How could you_ , he'd say _,_ probably, and _We're not supposed to fraternize_ maybe --

_I just wanted to get you laid. Didn't I promise I would?_

_That's all!_

Joe scowled, further intensifying his headache, because any idiot could see that was _not_ all. Even an idiot with a hangover.

There had been no lack of girls interested in the deed when he'd dragged Ken to the nightclub just down the road from here. It had been _Ken_ who had been so damn picky. One excuse after another why he didn't like each one. Enough to drive a guy nuts!

It was only just before closing time, when Ken was blind drunk that he'd said, _I'll tell you the truth Joe. 'S a secret._ Way drunk. Kind of cute actually. _I don't like any of 'em. They just don't... I just don't... you know? I don't want some stranger... just some_ ** _body_** _... I wanna care about -- them. I want somebody I_ ** _trust_** _. Really trust..._

Joe had said, _Jun --_

Ken shook his head. _Not Jun. Never Jun._

They'd accepted two more kamikaze shots from the bartender, swallowed them down.

_Somebody else?_

Slow nod.

Joe licked his lips. Who else could Ken possibly trust, in all the world?

_Last call_ , the bartender'd said.

***

In the here and now, the bathroom door suddenly banged open. Joe flinched, all loud sounds ricocheting painfully inside his skull.

Well, here came Pissed Off Ken. He marched out past Joe and grabbed up his clothes, putting them on with noticeably impaired grace, his lips compressed in a thin line.

"OK, I know you're mad at me," said Joe. "But, jeez, was it _really_ so bad...?"

Ken, boots and jeans on, jerked his shirt on over his head. His hair was more rumpled than ever.

"Was it?" pressed Joe. There was _some_ pride involved here.

Ken turned toward the door, and Joe realized aghast that he was just going to walk out and leave him there without a word.

"Ken!!"

Ken shut the door, not slamming it, but the sound still felt like a cannon shot to Joe.

In trouble again. Big time, this time. Ken was really mad. Of course he would be. _Things got kind of out of hand._

Which reminded him. He scooped up his keys and the room key, rummaged in the bedside drawer and stuck something in his pocket.

_Exhibit A. No sense leaving any for the next happy couple._

Then he left the Jungle Room, to go turn in the key and empty his wallet of cash. Even a cheap place like this cost plenty when you stayed all night.

_They oughta give me a discount for false advertising. Happy Lucky, my ass!_

*******

On his way out through the hotel, Ken fumed, offended anew by the Happy Lucky's even tackier corridors. To have to walk out of such a place in the light of day... or at _all_...

_Of course,_ ** _Joe_** _probably does it all the time._

He was stalking past the lobby window when he heard a voice say,

"Dude, were you in the Jungle Room...?"

Ken froze and, despite himself, turned to look at the speaker.

The window had _bars_ , which gave the grinning man behind it the air of a convict. He was young, but had a rat-like appearance that was exacerbated by a grey sweatshirt. Ken did not answer, but the man had not really been waiting for one.

"We got complaints last night from the rooms on either side of you _and_ across the hall. The room over top called too, but _they_ were hoping for your phone number." The grin widened, becoming conspiratorial. "I promised I'd pass it on."

Ken stood there, attempting to process this without his head actually exploding. He heard, from the corridor behind him, the sound of a door opening and closing. Steps. Joe's, though a bit off rhythm.

"...complaints...?" Ken echoed faintly, nonplussed enough to speak.

"The _noise,_ dude. I could hear it all the way out here. Hey, I mean _I_ don't care. I'm just saying."

_The_ ** _noise_** _...?_

Ken turned and pinned Joe with a laser-blue Glare of Annihilation.

It hurt his head, but it was _worth it_. Joe, walking unsteadily -- still drunk? -- stopped short in his tracks, with a foolish look on his face.

Ken held the Glare until it should have rendered Joe into his composite molecules.

Then he stomped out. Behind him,

"Ken! -- Wait!"

"Whoa, dude! Someone's gotta pay for that room!"

"Jesus Christ!! I'll be _right back!!_ "

"No way, dude. 'Sides, what are you gonna do, _run_ after him, walking like that?"

Ken made certain to slam the lobby door.

It wasn't just the _one_ hotel he had to walk out past, either -- it was a whole _district_ of such hotels, a grubby amusement park of cute shapes and sordid themes, sprinkled liberally with foul-smelling cigarette butts.

The sunlight pierced his eyes like a hundred thousand hot dancing needles. The beer had produced a more vile and powerful hangover than Ken had yet experienced.

Ken gritted his teeth. He didn't remember anything, not what happened, not how they got here or where exactly 'here' was apart from the obvious: The Wrong Side of Town. Joe was probably driving, but that didn't help Ken now. He didn't even wanna _look_ at Joe right now.

***

Joe paid, but before he left, Rat Boy at the desk was deeply and thoroughly frightened (and his chair thoroughly moistened). Maybe he'd be less _gossipy_ in the future.

But now, Elvis had left the building.

Joe went down to the "SUPER DISCREET!" underground parking for his car. "Ow!" as he settled in to his seat. Dammit!

The blue car's tires squealed as he guided it out of the garage like a missile out of a silo. _Oh, don't think about stuff like that..._

Which way would Ken have gone? _That way_. He drove much more slowly than usual, bleary eyes scanning the people on the sidewalk for -- There! Joe leaned over to roll down the window. Considering what this baby could do, you'd think she'd have power fucking windows, but oh, no.

"Ken!"

Ken ignored him and tried to walk faster, shoulders hunched.

"C'mon Ken! At least let me give you a goddamn ride!"

No response. Joe honked the horn impatiently with his fist. "C'MON! Get in already!"

"Go on, honey," some joker called from where she stood handing out flyers in front of a half-price peep show. "He seems like a nice boy..."

"Yeah, let him give you a _ride_ ," piped up someone else. Joe gritted his teeth. Goddamn those assholes!

"KEN, GET IN THE GODDAMN CAR," he bellowed, "I'LL FOLLOW YOU TILL YOU DO!"

Although Ken's head did not move, Joe caught a flick of the blue eyes, evaluating exit options. But Joe had the terrain on his side. The hotel district was a narrow, dense area with one main street. There were alleys, sure, but Joe would bet his bottom dollar (if he had had any left after forking it out into Rat Boy's damp trembling hand) that Ken would not care to run the gauntlet of hookers contained therein.

Ken stopped short, face glowing hot, then turned and got in the car with stiff, jerky motions that betrayed -- at least to Joe -- that he was in pain.

Joe wished again for power windows to shut out the cheer that erupted on the sidewalk, but settled for his foot on the gas to leave it behind.

"Take me home," Ken growled. And not another word. It was a good half hour's drive, and Joe squirmed the whole way as he drove.

But Ken was content to simmer in silence, eyes firmly fixed on the window, and when Joe pulled up at the house Ken got out and slammed the door.

Shit. No chance of a decent shower. It was clear enough he wouldn't be welcome, and anyway... Joe wasn't sure he was ready to face Ken's inevitable, true wrath either. _Even if I didn't feel like shit._

He had to take a tepid, water-conserving shower in his trailer. When he stepped out, wrapped the towel around his waist and bent to pick up his jeans, he felt it again, _what Ken did._

_Ken's hands on him, hard and bruising, eyes gone dark --_

Joe hung the jeans on a chair back and stumbled to his bed.

_Unbelievably strong --_

He could hardly get the towel open fast enough.

_"Wait...!"_

Hard and weeping. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, inhaling sharply through his nose.

_No arguments, no negotiation. Just hard and fast and now_

"nnn..." Joe fisted his cock, eyes shut, possessed by the memory.

_Slamming him into the mattress, his hands couldn't find the edge of the round bed --_

Hips rocking. _Oh God Ken._

_\-- but by then he hadn't wanted to get away_

It felt _good_ , the ache in his ass, it made him even hotter... almost like it was still happening...

_Ken's sweat and growling and furious motion claiming him, pushing Joe past any pleasure he ever felt before_

A low answering growl rose from Joe's throat, his cock throbbing in his hand. "aah...!" escaped his teeth -- hot drops spattering his chest. He subsided, panting.

_And then the look in Ken's eyes as he realizes what he has been doing._

Panting, Joe shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the image. It just made his head ache worse as the blood came rushing back into it from parts south. It didn't make Ken's eyes go away.

***

_I'm not chasing after you, you asshole._

Ken stomped around his house.

_You know I'm gonna kill you. Come get it!_

Ken realized that he was pacing around purposelessly. He stopped short in the hall, taking a long deep breath. Yesterday's hangover was gone, but the humiliation still lingered, heating his face whenever he thought of it, which was often.

He could imagine Joe saying _What are you so mad about?_

_I'm mad because I don't even_ ** _know_** _what to be mad about!!_

He tried to picture it -- tried to rekindle the anger that was starting to slip toward self-pity. He pictured that dreadful, tacky room, which had probably seemed hilarious to Joe when they first walked in. He pictured the beer. But -- the girls? Had they brought them along, from a club or something? Or -- was it the sort of place where you could call for hookers...? Ken didn't know how that was supposed to work... He imagined Joe on the room's phone saying, _Yeah, one blonde with big tits and...Hang on..._ What'll you have? as though they were ordering pizza and negotiating toppings.

Yes. It probably was something like that.

And what would Ken have said? _I don't know. I don't care._ And Joe would just shrug and uncover the phone, _Just the blonde then, we'll share. -- Whaddya mean there's a surcharge for that?_

Ken growled and stomped into the bathroom to shower. Joe was going to be sorry if Ken had to come looking for him. Joe was going to be sorry anyway!

In the shower he moved on automatic, washing his hair, washing his body, methodical and efficient. Joe liked to wallow in showers till the hot water ran out, but Ken didn't like using it all up like that, even if it was his own house.

Yet as he rinsed the shampoo out the thought struck, _Did I_ ** _really_** _lose my virginity? I can't remember it so -- maybe it didn't happen?_ Maybe I couldn't get it up.

He stood there, eyes closed, with the hot water beating down on his head and filling his ears. Trying to remember...

He _did_ remember going out, yes, and drinking a lot. They were sitting at a bar and Joe was yelling at him over the hideously loud music for being too picky... That was the last Ken could clearly remember.

Anything? _Anything_ else?

Surely he'd remember _something_ if it had happened at all... even _a feeling..._

Suppose they _had_ shared that blonde -- or brunette. Suppose all three of them were there on the big round bed. Naked. Or maybe... _she'd_ have complicated underwear, red or black. Would she have been pretty...? Of course she would... Joe would have made sure of that.

And then -- ?

_'We got complaints last night... The_ ** _noise_** _, dude...'_

What noise? Was it the girl? Had she -- moaned a lot...? Or -- Joe? Or -- ??

Ken's shoulders hunched. _Oh God, not_ ** _me_** _!!_

_No. No way. It was probably them, with me passed out next to them._

Wait. Something...

Joe _asked_ him something. _Didn't he?_ He got mad at me? And then --

_..._

**_a dazzling moment of incredible heat. heart pounding. Pounding. POUNDING._**

_..._

_Oh god, it did happen. It must have._

_It happened -- and I can't even remember! It's not_ ** _fair_** _..._

_I wanted... I wanted..._

The water was running cold on his head. He turned it off and stood shivering.

***

There was no way in hell Joe was going to Ken's house, but he didn't actually try to hide. He was at the Snack J, nursing a mug of watery draft beer -- leaning against the bar, not sitting at a stool (God, no).

He had his back to the door, but he knew Ken was there even before Ken opened it. The bells jingled sharply. Joe took one last long swallow of his beer and set the empty mug down on the bar as the footsteps marched up. He just had time to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before Ken had him by the scruff of the neck.

"Outside. Now!"

A brief scuffle ensued -- Joe wasn't being dragged _anywhere_ like that -- but they were headed outside and he knew it. He'd known this was coming, anyway... but how come it was _all_ Joe's fault...? He didn't get this pain in the ass _all_ by himself...

The bells jingled again, discordant as two bodies jostled the door going through it. The G-2 was right out front. Joe had definitely not been trying to hide.

"Drive," gritted Ken, getting in.

"What?" Joe sat down gingerly in the driver's seat, trying to look casual. "Why, where to?"

"So you can't run off. And I don't _care_ where to. Anywhere. Just drive."

Joe started the car.

It was weird, like being in a confessional booth. Driving, Joe could only glance aside at Ken, while Ken had the choice of looking at him or not.

"I think I'm even more pissed off at you right now than I was yesterday," said Ken. "If that's even possible! How could you _do_ that to me!?"

"Now look!" snapped Joe, squirming again in his seat, "It's not all _my_ fault, y'know! I wasn't expecting things to go like they did... If you hadn't've chickened out -- "

" _Chickened out?"_

" -- yeah, and you know it -- I mean, jeez, I'm SORRY, all right, but it's not like it's illegal, it's supposed to feel good, how was I supposed to know you'd turn into some -- crazed sex pig -- "

The hairs on the back of Joe's neck were suddenly on end. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ken's eyes, very wide, and his mouth soundlessly shaping the words _sex pig_. Then,

" ** _WHAT?_** "

" -- I'm not complaining _exactly_ \-- "

"JOE. PULL OVER."

Joe did, and turned slowly to look at Ken.

"What are you talking about. WHAT is not illegal??"

Joe blinked. He pointed at the glove compartment. Ken slowly opened it and found the small brown glass bottle.

"What is..." Before Joe could stop him, Ken unscrewed the top and sniffed. Then he gasped, pupils dilating, face going red...

Joe grabbed the bottle from Ken's hands and capped it again before it spilled all over the place -- it wasn't the best smelling stuff in the world.

Ken panted, back arching, eyes closing. Joe braced himself, but Ken just sat there panting for about a minute or two, then licked his lips.

He was hard too. Joe could see it from here.

Ken turned toward him, still a little dreamy-eyed, but frowning now. "What... what was...?"

"Um, amyl nitrate."

" _Heart_ medicine...??"

"Um, yeah. It's good for sex... You know... I found it there in the nightstand... I just thought it'd help you um, relax..."

Ken's face tightened. "Relax?" he echoed. " _You drugged me!_ Why, so you could get your money's worth out of the hooker..."

" _What?"_

The word erupted from Joe's mouth as a squawk of disbelief.

"WHAT HOOKER?"

Ken blinked at him, knocked off the offensive by Joe's scandalized shout -- and then it _hit_ Joe.

_He doesn't remember...????_

_He thinks there was a HOOKER?_

_Oh... THANKS!_

But... oh shit! Ken was looking at him, and there were wheels turning behind the narrowed blue eyes in response to Joe's reaction.

"She -- wasn't a hooker!" Joe snapped back, desperately trying to reverse direction mid-argument. "I don't pay for it!" This at least had the ring of truth, though god knew he'd paid for the _place_ to do it in...

"Who was she then?" said Ken levelly, pinning Joe with his eyes, "What did she look like? What was her name?"

_Dammit! I don't know, I suck at direct lies --_ "She uh... Her name was uh... I didn't get her name. She didn't talk much..."

"Joe..."

"... but she sure did like you, you were just, you know, kind of drunk and..."

" _Joe."_

Joe trailed off.

There was a silence.

"Now... you're going to tell me what _really_ happened."

*******

Joe peeled out onto the highway as though trying to outrun the question. Or the memory. _What really happened._

Ken made a startled noise when the car lurched forward, but now Joe could feel his hard stare all over the side of his face.

"I'm _waiting_ , Condor."

Eagle voice now. Joe flinched.

He drove -- aimlessly, careless of speed -- _going nowhere fast_. "You really _don't_ remember... do you."

"I know enough to know that _you_ remember enough about your one night stands to describe them later," said Ken, "body measurements and all... And you can't tell me _anything_ about this girl..."

"Nothing to tell," Joe muttered. He watched the road with fierce concentration.

_Ken's not stupid. Maybe a little slow in some areas but..._ Joe suddenly remembered Rat Boy running his mouth about him walking funny. Ken had heard that... damn, it was too late now to claim he'd pulled something.

Joe had to slow down, downshift a little as traffic thickened around them. He was glad of other people for once, giving him something, _anything_ to deal with -- other than this.

_Dumbfuck_ , he said bitterly to himself. _Couldn't just make something up about some blonde._ tried...

"I should be happy you don't remember. I was lucky to get off so easy. But I'm _not_ happy and God knows I've never been lucky..." he muttered. _I could have been anybody._

Then the traffic got to be too much of a good thing and he had to stop. Joe hunched his shoulders, staring ahead at the license plate of the truck in front of them. _Hemmed in._

"What are you _talking_ about?" Ken was beginning to sound frustrated now. Joe didn't dare look at him.

"There wasn't any girl."

A confused silence.

"Then... _who_...?"

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled sharply through his nose.

So, he felt rather than saw Ken jerk upright in the seat, heard him draw in a quick disbelieving breath as the penny finally dropped. Joe had known it would.

"You... and me?" Ken's voice was so astonished that Joe, despite himself, turned his head. He was about to snap _I'm not_ ** _that_** _bad!_ when the words died on his lips and fell into his lap.

Ken's face...

The _look_ on Ken's face...

It was like -- all the lights were on inside Ken -- his eyes were _shining_. Illuminated -- with a look Joe had never seen, a look that made his heart do a swift, startled flip.

_oh, my God..._

Ken controlled his face a lot, but _this_... there was no controlling a look like this, it was too sudden, too naked... too _beautiful_...

Then that sunshine clouded over as Ken frowned and looked away, out the windshield. "It's not fair. I can't remember it. Not a single moment."

The truck ahead started moving, but stopped again after a few lengths. Joe rolled up slowly, leaving a little more room this time, though the jerkoff behind him in the red pickup crept practically up his ass. Joe shot a warning glance in his rear view mirror.

Then he looked back to Ken, and saw that the transcendent look of a minute ago was gone. It hurt in its absence. Ken stared out unhappily at the scenic back of the truck.

Joe swallowed. He... he didn't get to see that long enough -- Ken looking like that. _I want him to look like that again._

_I want to_ ** _make_** _him look like that again..._

"Wish I could make it up to you," he said, awkwardly, because how do you make up something like that? "Make it right somehow..."

A long silence. The truck released its brakes but then put them right back on again without moving.

"Do over," said Ken.

" _What_?" Joe stared at him. Ken met his gaze levelly. Joe could see his pulse jumping in his throat. It matched his own sudden spike of adrenaline.

"I want a do over," Ken repeated firmly.

"A _do over?"_ It's so incongruous, something from a kid's game. "You -- you don't get _do overs_ with stuff like this...!"

"Says who?"

Joe's mouth worked silently.

To either side, cars began to stream slowly forward, gaining speed while Joe and Ken sat still. The pickup truck inched even closer _(asshole)_. The truck ahead stayed put.

"Of course," said Ken softly, "if you don't want to... I understand."

A long moment. Joe stared at him. Thought about that look a moment ago... _You... and me...?_

Then, tearing his gaze away, Joe cut the wheel hard to the left, stepping on the gas so that the G-2 rocketed out from around the truck and back into traffic.

***

"Joe, we could have got the race car room..."

"Nuh uh. It wouldn't be a do over then." His voice was brisk with bravado; the same went for his footsteps.

Joe had a brown paper bag under his arm, containing two six-packs of beer. Although there were signs around the lobby window about Minibar Available: No Outside Beverages, the rodentlike man had ignored the bag. Indeed he had been extremely professional, handing over the key to the Jungle Room without any personal remarks or even eye contact. Not even a 'Dude'. _Joe must have made him wet his pants yesterday_ , thought Ken fondly.

They went into the room. Joe set the bag down on top of the minibar.

The room was every bit as awful as the day before, just freshly vacuumed and with fresh sheets on the big round bed. Ken looked around, reflexively smiling at the silliness of it all, but at the same time his chest was tight with anxiety.

Joe opened the bag, pulled out two beers and handed one to Ken without a word. Ken was terribly grateful for it -- something to _do,_ as well as something that would make this all less... awkward. Though he certainly wouldn't be getting as drunk as he'd been the other night. No matter what happened, Ken wanted to _remember_ it this time.

Joe drank his beer in record time; Ken was right behind him. They cracked open two fresh cans, and only then did Ken take a deep breath and say,

"So. How did we get here anyway...? The first time."

Joe took another long swallow of beer. "Well... both of us were shit faced. The bars closed, and we were driving around... And you _thought_ you were less drunk than me and kept grabbing for the wheel. And I said something like, You wanna drive, you sit here... so you, like a smartass, climbed into my lap and we went off the road into a ditch."

"We _did?"_ Ken was shocked.

"Well, I mean, maybe not a _ditch_ so much as... you know, off the side of the road. So I got'er into park and tackled you, trying to, kind of... shove you back into the passenger seat."

Joe's face was red now.

"...and then...?"

"Hang on." Changing of the beer. Joe looked everywhere but at him.

"Then... um..." Joe shrugged a little, "You tried to tell me something. And I told you to shut up..."

_He's leaving something out._ But Ken thought maybe he could guess. Wrestling drunk in the car, in the dark... his face heated up too, as his imagination went there.

_Things got hot,_ he guessed. _Shit_ , if only he could _remember_ they were -- and he didn't know what to _do_!

"So -- I brought us here. Was too drunk to get us all the way back to your house."

Ken felt his brows skew skeptically at this. _Oh, was_ ** _that_** _the reason?_

Joe saw it, hunched his shoulders guiltily and mumbled, "Well, that was part of it."

Ken let it go. "So... what did we do when we got here?" The warmth of beer was beginning to loosen the knot in his chest. "Where were you... and where was I...?"

"Well actually, I dumped you on the bed. You were so drunk you couldn't walk."

Ken winced. Joe glanced at him, then put down his beer and plucked Ken's from his hand. Seconds later Ken's head was swinging upside-down as Joe hauled him across the room in a fireman's carry. Then he landed in a bouncing sprawl in the center of the bed.

"Yeah, that's about right." Joe stood next to the bed, grinning down at Ken. There was the bravado again but... something else, too, maybe. "You pretty much just lay there."

Ken glared.

"Well, you did. I thought for a minute you were just gonna pass all the way out, but you didn't. I sat down -- here..." Joe sat on the edge of the bed, closer now but still looking down.

Ken slowly sat up, and waited. Joe ran a hand through his hair.

"Then what...?"

"Well, this is the part where you acted like an idiot and tried to chicken out on me."

"What do you mean," Ken frowned, "chicken out _on you_? Wasn't this supposed to be... for my sake?"

"I was expecting a little something _myself_ that night, you know," Joe snapped. "I just about _killed_ you when you didn't go for the twins."

Ken blinked. He didn't recall twins.

"But _how_ did I chicken out?"

"You just, I don't know, got all stupid on me and started worrying about fraternizing and stuff. But I could tell you still _wanted_ to. I hated seeing you trying to be all noble when you were that fucked up, when you were supposed to be letting go."

Ken stared at him.

"And I felt like I had just about enough of it... So that's when I went for this." He produced the little bottle from his pocket, holding it out to Ken.

Ken reached out and put his hand over Joe's, enclosing the bottle.

"I don't think we'll be needing this," said Ken, and felt himself smile, though his heart was jackhammering against his ribs.

Joe's eyes were wide, riveted to Ken's now instead of roving the room. Only their hands were touching, but it was _a touch_ \-- a lingering contact. Joe's skin felt so hot...

Joe licked his lips. "Hang on... I uh... Need another beer -- " He tried to pull away, to pull back, to retreat and place distance between them... _to waste time._

"No. You don't." Ken released Joe's hand, but only to take hold of a generous handful of the front of his shirt and _yank._

_I don't want to be drunk and I don't want you to be drunk. I want this and I want it real!_

Joe landed on his back with an "oof!" and the bottle went flying to land somewhere on the carpet. Neither of them gave it another thought.

Eyes wild, he grasped Ken's arms as though to struggle with him, but then just looked up at him, breathing hard. His face was flushed, grey-blue eyes dark.

"I'm gonna kiss you," said Ken, his voice very low. "Just in case you wanna try and stop me."

Joe's eyebrows flexed, and he licked his lips. Ken almost groaned to see it, the tip of Joe's tongue appearing and vanishing again so quickly. He leaned closer, closer, fascinated by the sight, till Joe said tartly, "So do it already. What are you waiting for, a permission slip -- "

Even as the word 'slip' was crossing his lips, Ken leaned in and kissed him, long and slow... It was not Ken's first kiss, even counting what he did not remember from two nights ago, but it was the first one that made him feel like _this._

Hot. Enthralled. By the time he lifted his head to look down at Joe, he was dreamy-eyed, and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

"That the best you got?" said Joe, but his breathing was suspiciously heavy.

"You didn't like it?" Ken lifted his eyebrows. He was pinning Joe's upper body down with his own, but now he moved around so as to pin him down fully -- full contact all the way down. "I think you did..."

"Hey, fuck you..." Joe panted now, and he worked his arms free not to push Ken away but to clutch at him, trying to pull him even closer.

Joe initiated the next kiss. it was wild and hot, and by the end of it Ken realized dazedly that he was once more lying on his back, with Joe on top of him, hips rocking luxuriously.

Joe laughed down at him, breathy, eyes molten-hot. "Not bad huh..."

It took Ken a moment to catch sufficient breath for speech. "...that all... you got..."

He loved the look on Joe's face then. The grin of challenge, with something extra... Ken didn't dare to try to define it even to himself, but he drank it in like light and heat.

Clothes went flying next, adding nothing to the decor of the room, but taking nothing away either. And the sight on the bed now -- Joe naked and hard and looking at him like that -- made the surroundings suddenly meaningless. He'd been so angry with Joe for bringing him _here_ but -- did it _matter_ where, Joe brought him!

_I will never forget a moment of this. Not for as long as I live._

Ah god, Joe's skin -- ! It wasn't just his hand, his whole body radiated heat like a furnace (fueled by his rage? or something else?). Ken almost felt like it would scorch him, but pressed eagerly against that heat. And Joe's cock was hotter still, cast-iron hard wrapped in silky-velvet... Ken felt delirious with greed. _Where to begin?_

They were kissing again, lying face to face, and Ken's hands moved over Joe's body -- learning the feel of what he'd seen so many times... the long line of his back, the faint tracery of scars...

_And god help me, that incredible butt._ The distraction was almost enough to make you wish Joe's wings came down further in the back -- almost. Ken had _permission_ now, and he let his hands roam, fondle, squeeze --

Joe hissed into Ken's mouth, spine snapping taut. Ken stopped instantly.

_I hurt him. He's still sore._ But Ken sensed that an apology would be like a bucket of cold water over the bed.

"How d'you feel about a little payback, Joe?"

"Huh...?" Joe licked his lips again. They were kiss bruised now, and he looked flushed and rumpled and a little out of it. He blinked, focusing on Ken. "What...?"

"Payback. You owe me one, don't you... for being a 'sex pig'..." Ken smiled, "Wanna?"

Yes. he wanted to. It was written there in his face. "You... are you sure...?"

Ken rubbed up against him. He felt the hard, hot body shudder against his. One or both of them was leaking precum and they slid slickly against each other as they rocked.

"Make me pay, Joe," he growled.

Joe made an indescribable noise, and looked up wild-eyed. Just as Ken was going to ask what he was looking for, Joe found it and lunged. Ken realized that there was something to be said for love hotels. There was a lube dispenser built into the side of the nightstand.

Despite the suggestion of revenge, Joe did not just take him right away, as Ken was half-hoping and half-fearing he would. It was typically Joe somehow though, a rough bruising kiss intoxicating Ken's senses, while slick fingers stroked and then probed between his legs. Stealth mission. Power struggle.

"Do it," Ken said raggedly, when he could breathe. "Do it! Fuck me..."

Joe hesitated for an agonizing second. Ken struggled to focus on his face -- he looked amazed, like someone standing in front of a view that has taken his breath away.

But it was only for a second. Joe moved to join them together, deftly sliding out his fingers as he lined up his cock.

"Joe!" The syllable escaped Ken's gritted teeth as he felt the head pushing and pushing, then abruptly gaining entry. Despite the pleasure Joe's fingers had given him, this was very different, much bigger. It _hurt_. For a few seconds Ken didn't think he could do this.

_It's too much --_

Ken's mouth was tight shut, guarding against any sounds that might escape him. But Joe paused, leaned down, and took up his mouth again in a kiss that was so slow yet so hot that before Ken knew it, Joe had slid forward... more and more... all the way in.

"Ken," Joe groaned, and bit the side of his neck.

"Oh," said Ken, surprise in his voice. His body was learning how to accommodate the invader. The pain was fading...

Then, Joe began to move.

Ken had learned long ago to contain sounds of pain, but he had no defense against the sounds of pleasure that tore from his throat. Even as he knew that others could hear him, he could not care. Joe started at a slow rhythm, but Ken's responses seemed to inspire him, and now he was upping the tempo, moving faster and harder as Ken clutched at him. He was _growling_ \-- sexy and hot and growling, and fucking him -- filling him -- making him howl.

"Joe! -- oh -- god!!"

"Yeah..." Joe's eyes were closed, brows lowered as though he were angry, teeth gritted. "Yeah..."

Ken strove against him, bucking up to meet Joe's thrusts. "Harder -- !"

Joe opened his eyes with a gasp and stared down at him.

"Harder!" Ken writhed, desperate. "Joe -- !"

Then Joe went wild, fingers bruising Ken's hips as he pounded into him.

_He's going to come._ Even in the blur of sweet violence Ken could tell. _I want to go with him..._

He managed to slide one hand between them. It took only the merest touch -- and an incendiary orgasm wrenched a cry -- " _Joe!_ " -- from his throat as he writhed, drenching their bellies with pulse after pulse that Ken could feel throbbing throughout his entire body.

Joe made a sobbing sound and then went still, all muscles locked as he arched back, mouth open in a silent howl. Ken forced his eyes open to drink in the sight -- Joe in climax, utterly wild, abandoned to something sweeter than rage, but every bit as hot.

Ken let the image imprint itself on his memory. The image, and the delicious aftershocks, and the sexy scent of Joe's sweat... The throbbing inside him as Joe came... The sweet weight of his body as he slumped forward.

And the look in Joe's eyes when he opened them at last, turning his head to smile lazily at Ken.

_He's still inside me._

"That better have been memorable," said Joe, trying for 'gruff', but there was a thread of laughter running through his voice.

There was a pause. Ken tried to hide a smile.

" _What_ better have been...? OW! OK! OK! I'm _kidding!_ It was memorable..."

They subsided, still entangled -- breaths and heartbeats slowing down to normal.

"Satisfied with your do-over?" Joe's voice made his chest rumble under Ken's ear.

Ken lifted his tousled head and offered a slow sleepy smile. "What if I say no?"

"We've got the room till morning."

"Then _no_. Do over..."

***

This morning, Rat Boy's transformation had progressed -- his hair was even combed. Maybe he was trying to become somebody else. He said absolutely nothing about the way the _both_ of them were walking this morning -- like new ranch hands after their first all-day ride. He just handed Joe back the Amerisan Express card and the copy of the receipt.

"Come again, Mr. Nambu." _Very_ polite.

As Joe turned toward the door he met Ken's eye. And there, for an instant, was _that look._ Shining.

_You will,_ Ken mouthed.

**Author's Note:**

> The challenge at Bird Go! specified the first line, _When they awoke, the first thing they noticed was that they were both naked._


End file.
